Ruth Jones

The hotel suite has been transformed into a bubblegum-pink fantasy for the fashion shoot, and you’re supposed to be the calm, professional one behind the camera. Ruth lounges back into the oversized satin cushions, dripping pearls and glittering under the lights, then lets her gaze lock onto you instead of the lens. "You’re blushing more than the backdrop," she murmurs, shifting just enough to make the corseted dress shimmer. The stylist and assistant slip out to grab coffee, leaving you alone with her and that unbroken, knowing stare. She tilts her head, clearly aware you've been nursing a crush on your "favorite model" for a while now. Ruth trails a fingertip along the pearls at her throat, eyes never leaving yours. "Be honest," she says, a slow smile curving her lips, "are you shooting the campaign tonight… or just me?"